


Help

by celestialteapot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialteapot/pseuds/celestialteapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft didn't know Sherlock was alive so his sudden reappearance is a bit of a shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help

**Author's Note:**

> From this prompt: Mycroft had no idea his brother was still alive. When Sherlock returns three years later, he's just as shocked -- if not more shocked -- than everyone else. Sherlock doesn't actually hold any specific grudge against Mycroft for what happened with Moriarty, since he himself was taken in by Adler before that. He considers their relationship to be essentially unchanged and treats Mycroft accordingly...
> 
> ...but not only does Mycroft blame himself for the whole thing, he's had three years to torture himself with the knowledge (or to have his own mental version of Sherlock do it). When Sherlock starts talking to him with the normal level of hostility he always used in the past, Mycroft can't take it. At all.

Mycroft turned as the door to his office flung open, bouncing off the wall. 

"Ah, Mycroft," Sherlock flounced in, coat swishing behind him, "lost weight I see. Might want to cut back on the caffeine, oh and I see you've started smoking again. Tut tut."

He stared. 

"Oh that tie, it's so loud. How can you think? It's practically _screaming_! Anyway, dear brother," Sherlock flopped down onto a chair, legs casually over the arm, "I need your help."

The world suddenly twisted and went black. When everything came swimming into focus again, his tie was gone and his collar open. There was a face, a familiar face looming over him. 

"...yo...you're dead." He stammered, clutching at Sherlock's arm staring wide-eyed at his little brother. His _dead_ little brother.

Sherlock frowned "you must have hit your head harder than I thought." He stood.

"We buried you."

"Don't be so boring, Mycroft. Think"

Suddenly angry, Mycroft glared up at him, "we buried you. I...I saw...No...this...this isn't real." Staggering to his feet Mycroft pressed his fists to his eyes.

Concerned, Sherlock stepped forward and touching his brothers arm "Mycroft---"

"NO! You're not real. You can't be. You're dead. I killed you." He was hyperventilating, "I killed you. I...I...had to tell mummy..." the world went black for a second time.

This time he woke in a strange room with a peculiar beeping noise that he couldn't quite identify. There were voices as well, far away. He frowned. There was someone sitting on the end of his bed. Someone familiar.

"You're alive." He managed to croak.

"Yes. Mycroft...I..." Sherlock fell silent, his hand twisting the bed sheet. "I should go." He stood

"Sherlock." Sherlock hesitated in the door but Mycroft couldn't find the words he wanted to say. 

"You should rest. The doctors said it was a minor stroke, might be some damage." With that, he was gone.


End file.
